Whenever people ask if I grew up on a farm, I always say no. Well, that's not 100% true, but I really don't think it counts for much that I lived on a farm until I was only three years old. I have exactly two memories of that place, and since one involves coming face to face with a snake, it's a miracle I ever considered leaving the relative safety of the burbs. So, here's a little treat -- pictures of me with my father when I was a toddler on our south Texas farm outside of Refugio. When I told him we were moving out to the country in 2002, he looked at me as if I'd told him we were moving to Mars, and he said, "What do you want to do that for?" Unfortunately, I couldn't explain my reasons very well, and he died a few months later. There have been a lot of days when I wished I could ask him a question out here. Although he only had a sixth grade education, he had a wealth of agricultural knowledge prior to industrialization.
Now, back to our regularly scheduled programming -- If you missed yesterday's post, be sure to page down and sign up for the give-away! The deadline is Monday night.
3 comments:
How very sad that you lost your Father and all of that knowledge that you'd have both enjoyed sharing; but how wonderful that you have returned to your roots and form in a traditional way. Love the photos :o)
All us grown up little girls miss our Daddy's. I miss mine so much even though he's been gone since 1975. He dies way too young at age 72. He taught me so many things... about the stars, Orion constellation, thunderstorms, how gardens grow, how to ride a bicycle, how to take care of Easter chicks so they grow up to be eatin' roosters...
What a sweet post! I know how you feel, wishing you could ask your daddy a question. We started our farm a few years after my dad passed away and I can't begin to tell you the number of times I've wanted to share ideas and ask questions about the farm he grew up on.
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